Rely On Each Other
by Agent Ninety-Nine
Summary: Is Mimi still sincere? Is Joe still reliable? Can anything save their relationship?
1. One

Joe swept his shaggy hair out of his eyes, blinking miserably behind his thick spectacles.   
"Mimi..."   
"I'm sorry Joe! I'm sorry!"   
There was a hysterical note in his wife's voice. Normally when that tone crept in Joe would hug her firmly, reassure her. But he didn't move. 

"You said never again. It was just a fling, a once-off. You said it was over," Joe looked her in the eye. "You said you loved me."   
"I do love you, Joe," Mimi protested, wringing her hands.   
Joe shook his head. "I'm sorry. I want to believe you. But I can't." He clutched his temples and rocked to and fro. "Please, just go."   
"Joe, no..."   
"Take my car, take all the money you want. Just leave. Now." 

Frightened by the anger in his voice, Mimi paused only to grab her old hat before leaving. Usually the thought of going on a trip without at least two suitcases of clothes would send her into a pink fit. She left the front door on the latch, knowing Joe would later double-lock it and activate the security system. Ignoring the sensible dark-blue hatchback which sat perfectly parallel to the house, she climbed into her darling gas-guzzling Beetle and drove off into the night. 

* * *

Joe rarely experienced anger. Panic, fear, confusion, yes. But he had never been subject to the rages that took over Tai, say, or Matt. Everyone always told him how sensible and dependable he was. In the old days, he had even carried the crest of Reliability. Reliability! It was relying on Joe's tolerance and his love for Mimi that had led his wife to her affair with Dr Hong, his tall, black-haired junior partner. Three times she had gone off with someone else and each time she had come running back to him, swearing it had been a mistake and he was the only one for her. Now he'd had enough. Tai would have been amazed to see good old reliable Joe ripping through Mimi's wardrobe, consigning her clothes and jewellery to black rubbish bags. 

Pink frilly dresses like a little girl's dream. Long, flowing gowns. Silk stockings, tiny pointed shoes in a jumble on the floor. Joe's clothes were pushed up to the far end of the wardrobe, as though the sober suits in dark, practical colours were trying to get away from the riot of satin and lace. 

There were so many contrasts between Joe and Mimi it was a wonder they shared any common ground at all. When they went out to dinner or the theatre (when Joe's schedule permitted it) they looked like the original odd couple: Mimi sweeping along like a film star while Joe shuffled in her wake, pawing at his formal suit. Yet it worked. Joe calmed Mimi down and Mimi lightened Joe up. Plus they were in love, and they were far from being the unlikeliest people ever to fall for each other. 

Had Mimi worn _any_ of these dresses more than twice? Joe wondered. With his retentive mind and eye for detail, as he picked up each item of clothing a memory of its debut came back to him. First night...premiere...fashion shoot...good grief, senior prom... 

Midnight saw Joe asleep on the floor, holding a black velvet evening gown to himself like a comfort blanket. 

* * *

Perched on the edge of her motel-room bed, whose covers she had shaken fastidiously as soon as she arrived, Mimi dialled Matt's number. Though they hadn't seen each other for a couple of years, one of them phoned the other at least once a month and they always picked up right where they'd left off. 

"Hello?" Matt sounded sleepy; it was later than Mimi had realised.   
"Oh Matt! Joe found out about me and Michael. He threw me out," she blurted.   
There was a long sigh and a pause at the other end.   
"I'm so sorry, Mimi. Is there anything I can do?"   
"Just...just talk to me." Mimi sniffled.   
"Mimi...I said Joe wouldn't put up with your affairs forever. You can't just use him as a cushion to fall back on when your exciting flings go wrong. I know he's steady and dependable, but the man's not a total doormat."   
"I know...I don't think he'll take me back, this time." 

Matt cleared his throat. "Do you want him back? If you've been unhappy enough to have an affair, maybe - "   
"Yes!" Mimi interrupted. "I was just bored...I was a silly, spoilt brat wanting the best of both worlds. Security and romance. But now I just want Joe, I swear."   
Silence from Matt.   
"You don't believe me either, do you?" Mimi accused.   
"It's just I've heard you say that before." 

Matt sighed again. All the Digi-Destined had been surprised when pretty, glamorous Mimi started going out with Joe; Joe himself most of all. But Matt had seen it coming. He was closer to Mimi than anyone else in the group, and knew that she went much deeper than the others suspected. Deep enough to see beyond Joe's gawky, geeky appearance to the kind, loving man within. Lately, though, with her wild flings and constant lies to Joe, he had begun to worry about both his friends. He hoped desperately that the couple would make it through this. But maybe their love had run its course. 

"Matt?"   
"Still here," he said as cheerfully as he could. "Where are you, anyway?"   
"At a motel."   
"Well, get some rest. It's late. You can call me anytime, though." 

Mimi didn't think she could bear Matt to hang up. The loneliness would start to get to her once the other human voice was gone.   
"Matt - when we were kids, did you ever think about you and me getting together?" she asked suddenly.   
"Sure! I was a horny teenager, what else did I have to think about?"   
"I wonder why it didn't happen." Mimi said rather wistfully.   
"Because we didn't want to spoil a great friendship."   
"I love you, Matt."   
"I love you too, Mimi. Goodnight." 

Mimi listened to the dialtone until the phone wailed to be put down. 


	2. Two

Joe was hunched over his computer, as usual. No one at the office would have suspected he was anything but hard at work examining his patients' records or typing up a report; he looked as intense and serious as always, and besides, Joe never slacked or took time off to surf the Internet. In fact, though, he was composing an e-mail. 

**To: k.isida@pineapple.com   
Subject: help me**

**Hi Izzy.**

**I'm sorry I haven't mailed you for so long, but things have been pretty hectic at work. And at home. Mimi's been having an affair and last night I flipped and threw her out. I don't know what to do. She says she still loves me but can I trust her? I don't even know where she is. I keep hoping she's OK. Even though I'm mad at her she's still my wife. And I still love her. Sorry to throw all this at you out of the blue. I just want to talk to someone and you're the most sensible person I know - far more sensible than me. **

**Hope life at the world's biggest computer company is treating you well. How's the ingrowing toenail?**

Joe 

He hastily Alt-Tabbed to a complicated spreadsheet as his receptionist came over with a cup of coffee.   
"Cup of joe, Joe?" It was their small joke, made every day. The normality of it made Joe relax momentarily.   
"You look tense. I think I should prescribe a shoulder rub."   
"No thanks, Michiko," Joe smiled wanly.   
"Well, don't work too hard." She strolled off to tidy the magazines in the waiting-room. Joe sighed. If only she knew - he hadn't worked all morning. He was supposed to be preparing a lecture for a seminar in Tokyo at the weekend, but he hadn't even started. He knew they were relying on him, but somehow it didn't seem to matter any more... 

* * *

Mimi had spent the day browsing the stores, but it didn't cheer her up the way it usually did. She tried on six dresses, but none of them gave her that must-have feeling. In the end she stopped trying, just wandering into a shop, running her hand along a rack of clothes, then drifting out. In a big department store she found a four-pack of sensible, navy-blue woollen socks, just the kind Joe would like. She was always buying him underwear, as he had no time to do it himself but fretted if there were holes or darns in his clothes. She was standing in the queue with her credit card before she remembered that Joe had thrown her out and probably wouldn't take kindly to a peace offering of socks. She draped them over a mannekin's arm and crept away, a gloved arm raised to hide the tears in her eyes. 

The urge to buy something for Joe persisted, but what would he like? Flowers? Impractical. A book? Sure, but what? He had no time for novels and she didn't have the skill to pick a textbook he'd need. Besides, all her money came from Joe. She had given up her job when she moved back to Japan to be with him, and lived on the allowance he gave her. So there was nothing she could give him that would truly be a present from her...or was there? 

She sat in a coffee bar, resting her aching feet in their fragile pink shoes. Normally after a shopping spree she'd return home, flop exhausted into an armchair and have Joe massage her feet. It occurred to her for the first time that he must really love her to perform that service. And though he sometimes raised his eyebrows at her monthly credit card bill, he never criticised what she chose to spend her money on. 

A vision of Joe floated before her. Lately the worry lines on his forehead - which he'd had since childhood - had grown deeper, and been joined by frown wrinkles around his mouth. As they lay in bed she would try to smooth them with her fingers, but he'd push her away impatiently muttering about how he needed his sleep. 

That was it! Joe had been distant, had no time for his wife. Time after time he'd cancelled dinner or some other outing at the last moment, pleading work - sometimes when Mimi had already arrived at the venue and was waiting for him. He'd come to bed at two or three in the morning, too exhausted for anything more than an affectionate peck on the cheek for his wife. Often he forgot to come home for meals. _That_ was why she'd been driven to have affairs with men who at least paid attention to her! 

Mimi sighed. No, she couldn't get rid of her guilt that easily. Joe had been busy, yes, but no less loving. It was just that Mimi wanted everyone's attention on her, 100% of the time. Giving up a glamorous career had been hard; at first people had pointed and stared when they passed her in the street, but over the years memories faded and only an occasional fan troubled her. She had even been approached for a Where Are They Now? magazine article, but had declined angrily. 

Why couldn't Joe lighten up any more? Mimi remembered how serious he'd been when they first met. But adventures in the Digiworld had loosened him up, taught him to be less afraid of ridicule and more confident in himself - even taught him to have fun. The half-formed thought that had come to her in the store returned, and she beamed into her cappuccino. 

Joe needed Gomamon. And Mimi would fetch him. 


End file.
